


Family Reunion

by nitro147



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, a good dose of angst, possibly the start of a future series of gf fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 22:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitro147/pseuds/nitro147
Summary: Sometimes family reunions happen every year at grandma’s house. Sometimes they happen in the parking lot of some dumpy gas station in the middle of nowhere. For Mabel Pines, who hasn’t seen her brother in nearly a decade, it’s the latter.





	Family Reunion

               As far as Mabel was concerned, the bathroom she was standing in barely qualified as a bathroom. The tiles were grimy and slick, the mirror broken and graffitied, and, well, she tried to not take in the other details. The stench was enough by itself to make this place a biohazard, and that wasn’t saying anything about the spot of mold on the wall that had definitely winked at her when she came in. But hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And in times like that, even a run-down gas station in the middle of nowhere was a better option than one of the numerous desert shrubs outside that provided relatively little shelter from the highway. Times like this made Mabel think though: why exactly did she think putting her headquarters in the middle of Arizona would be a good idea? Maybe it was the “middle of nowhere” aspect. After all, it was hard enough selling products with neon animals printed on them without mobs of little girls trying to get free stuff.

               When she had finally relieved herself (of being in that death trap called a bathroom), she returned to the affixed convenience store, clutching the bathroom key between a wad of toilet paper. She chucked it onto the clerk’s counter along with the toilet paper. Outside, a bit of motion caught her attention; an RV had just pulled into the station. As she approached the door to head back outside, she stopped mid-step and realized that she was really _really_ hungry now. When was the last time she had eaten? Shrugging, she spun around on her heels and trotted off down one of the aisles to peruse the snack foods. Most of the food items available were covered with a fine layer of dust. The packaging was written in fonts that Mabel hadn’t seen since her childhood. She scanned the labels for something that looked like it contained the slightest amount of nutrition and wouldn’t kill her if she ate it. A familiar, bright pink label brought her to a halt.

               “Smile Dip, haha. Good times,” she said. Wasn’t this stuff still illegal? She couldn’t remember, but its dubious legal status wasn’t going to stop her from buying some anyway. She grabbed a few packs when the bell above the station’s door rang, though she couldn’t see if the RV owner had walked in or if maybe some poor lost soul had finally made it out of the building. She made her way further down the aisle towards a refrigerated section stocked with cans of old soda and off-color milk. When she rounded the corner, she caught a glimpse of a customer who was studying the selection of beverages. Just as quickly she ducked back behind the shelving, her hand clutched tight against her chest. _Thudthudthud_. Was that…

               She peeked around the corner and studied the man, who had his back turned to her, for any details she could pick out to be sure it was _him_. The long-sleeve plaid shirt had been sewn up in places with a lack of grace that only Dipper could manage. His jeans, caked with dirt and dust, called to mind scenes from their teenage years when he would go hunting for monsters in the woods. The hair she could see from beneath his hat looped and curled in an oh-so-familiar way. Then suddenly it hit her – that psychic connection, that intangible bond between twins, was thrust back into her consciousness after having laid dormant for years. Every nerve in her body was tingling; there was no longer any doubt in her mind.

               That slumbering psychic bond must have awoken in Dipper again as well, since he suddenly stiffened and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He thrust his hand into the cooler without looking and grabbed whatever drink his fingers wrapped themselves around. Then he turned and, without even the slightest glance in Mabel’s direction, covered the distance to the cashier in several long strides. He pulled out an assortment of bills and coins from his pocket (was that some Monopoly money Mabel just saw?) and slammed them onto the counter.

               “This should be enough,” Dipper said, still clutching his drink and already making his way out the door.

               Mabel crept out from behind the shelf and said, “Dipper?”

               Dipper tensed even more. “I don’t need any change. Or a receipt,” he said to the clerk.

               Mabel watched Dipper recede through the glass of the door. He was crossing the parking lot to the RV, getting faster with each step as he evolved from a “trying my best to look casual” walk to an “oh man I really screwed up” run. Memories drifted through Mabel’s mind, overlapping with the present scene as she once again watched her brother disappear from her life. No, not this time. This time it would end differently. Dipper might be enough of a jackass to drive away from his sister, but she wasn’t going to let him. She bolted through the door, still clutching the Smile Dip.

               “Hey, you have to pay for that stuff!” the clerk yelled.

               She tossed the snacks back into the store. “They’re out of date anyway!” she said.

               Dipper was already shutting the door to the RV as Mabel ran across the parking lot. “Dipper, don’t even think about starting that rusty bunch of garbage up!” She grabbed the handle of the door and tugged on it, but Dipper had locked it. Her stomach sank.

               “Dipper, open the door!”

               There was no response. She went to the one of the windows and stood on her tiptoes to look inside. If Dipper was in there, he was probably crouched down on the ground like a dork. Mabel returned to the door and wiggled the handle again, hoping that maybe she just hadn’t pulled hard enough the first time. When the door refused to open, she rested her forehead against it and sighed.

               “Dipper… it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Why won’t you let me in?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much…”

               Mabel felt too numb to move. Maybe if she waited long enough, she’d spontaneously develop telekinesis and would be able to open the door by herself. Before she even had the opportunity to discovery her latent psychic powers, the sound of faint footsteps came from inside, followed by a faint _click_ from the door. Lifting her head, she stared at the door handle, waiting for something to happen. When the door remained shut, she reached her trembling hand out towards the handle and took hold. She pulled, gently at first, then harder when she felt no resistance. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the RV. She ran her forearm across her face to wipe away the tears, then took a step inside.

               The dimly lit cabin called to mind scenes of Weirdmageddon: an absolute whirlwind of a mess that could have only been made by an omnipotent demon or her brother. Papers and notebooks were strewn across the floor, countertops – any surface that would hold them. Some of the papers had been taped up with pictures and maps in a sort of collage, with strings and thumbtacks connecting them in an incomprehensible web. Sitting on the kitchen table was what looked like some radio equipment and a small laptop that had been scorched at least once in its lifetime. One of the RV walls had been shot through a few times, though Dipper had patched it up from the outside (probably with duct tape). The one space that wasn’t overflowing with clutter was a small bed whose covers had been jumbled up to match the rest of the décor. Near the bed, tucked against the corner of a window, was a photo of Dipper and Mabel from their days at Gravity Falls.

               Mabel said, “Nice place you got here.” Real smooth.

               Dipper chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it does the job.” He was sitting on one side of the tiny kitchen table, clutching its side.

               Mabel stood there, soaking in the silence with her brother, until Dipper finally said, “You can sit. I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to.”

               “Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure,” Mabel said, moving to sit down in the seat opposite Dipper. She stopped when she noticed that the seat was cluttered with more folders and papers. “Should I-” she started to ask, miming the act of picking up the pile.

               “Yeah, just. Just move them where ever you find space,” Dipper said. He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the mess.”

               She gathered the papers up in her arms and let them fall to the floor with a resounding plop. “It’s alright,” she said, taking her seat. Again, the silence enveloped them as they tried to find interesting things to stare at in the RV. It was impossible to tell what exactly Dipper was thinking about, but Mabel had rehearsed this moment in her head for years. Each time it played out differently, but even with all that rehearsal and all of the variations she had conjured up, she was letting the silence between them stretch as long as the void in time that separated their collective lives.

               Mabel took a deep breath, sorting through the tough questions in her mind, and asked… “How have you been?” Great job, Mabel. Starting with the hard-hitting questions.

               “Oh. I’ve been, you know. Fine. But like, good fine. Busy.”

               “I can tell,” Mabel said, taking a look around the RV once more. Some of the things pinned up to the wall dredged up old memories, vaporous images that were all too easily obscured by the clouds of dust that had gathered on them after so many years: memories of journals, of other worlds, of unfamiliar creatures and growing pains and summer. “Looks like you’re still into monsters and ghosts,” she said, her eyes still scanning the cabin interior.

               Dipper forced a laugh out. “Ah, yeah. I guess that’s… sort of what I do? I hunt down paranormal things and… study them. It’s… you know… but hey, what about you? Big time CEO of a major company, that’s incredible!

               Mabel’s attention snapped back to Dipper. How in the world did he even know that? “Yeah, who knew that neon colors and cute animals would be such a hit with this generation?” she said with a shrug.

               “I’m proud of you,” said Dipper, either to his shoes or to Mabel. She was trying to figure out which it was.

               Dipper started to fidget with a pencil. As his arm moved about, his sleeve tugged upward and Mabel caught sight of a tattoo.

               “Hahaha, bro, is that a _tattoo_?” she said, a bit louder than she had intended.

               Dipper’s face turned red. “Oh. You saw that, huh?”

               “Lemme see, lemme see,” Mabel said, trying her best to lean over the table to get a closer look. The barrier between that had dissolved, if only for a little while, and it was just like old times again.

               Dipper hesitated for a moment before rolling up his sleeve. Red plaid receded and was replaced with a network of arcane lettering and geometric designs.

               Mabel frowned. “No offense, bro, but I was hoping you had gotten something a little less… weird.”

               “It’s… not really supposed to be fashionable,” he said. His voice got small as he said, “It’s for protection.”

               “Protection? From what?”

               Dipper swallowed hard and looked out the window. “There are things out there, Mabel. Dangerous things. Things that you and I can’t even comprehend.” He looked at Mabel, who nodded slowly as if to signal that she already knew this. Dipper said, “And someone has to protect us from those things! Because if someone doesn’t – if I don’t – then I…”

               “Is _that_ what you’ve been doing this whole time?” Mabel interjected. “Is that why you left mom and dad? To go hunting for boogeymen and demons?”

               “No, Mabel, that’s not what… Mabel, I… you just don’t understand! I was doing this to protect you!”

               “Protect me? From what? Dipper, I’ve _dealt with_ things that go bump in the night! I was _there_ , remember?”

               “I just didn’t want you to get hurt!”

               “But I did get hurt, Dipper! _You_ hurt me! Okay? You hurt me.” The tears returned without warning, tumbling down her cheeks and onto the table. “You promised me that nothing was going to tear us apart, but then you got up one day and left without even saying goodbye. Our parents were so worried, Dipper. _I_ was so worried. Grunkle Ford spent so long looking for you but even he started to give up eventually. And then when Grunkle Stan… you didn’t even come, you weren’t even _there_.” She was trying to breathe normally to maintain at least some shred of composure, but could only manage a stuttered inhalation. She hated the stale air of the RV, hated this gas station, hated that her brother had done this and that there was no going back to the way things were before.

               “Mabel…”

               Mabel clutched her arms to her chest. The anxiety and catharsis that came with confronting Dipper shook her body. “I never understood, Dipper. I always thought that maybe it was my fault that you left, maybe I did something wrong and I didn’t know it. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. And I know I shouldn’t feel that way because I’m not the one who left. You disappeared from my life and you haven’t even said sorry. You never called to see how things were. I wondered where you were every day, if you were okay. And then I find you here, at this shithole of a gas station, and you tried to run away from me. You didn’t even _want_ to say sorry.”

               “I’m sorry, Mabel. I felt like I had to do this. I wanted to do this. And I knew that everyone would try to stop me from doing it – except for you. You would have wanted to come along, and I didn’t want you getting hurt. I didn’t want this to end up like –”

               “Like Bill.”

               Dipper nodded.

               “Dipper, none of that turned out bad in the end.” Dipper opened his mouth to speak, but Mabel raised her hand to silence him. She continued, “I know it could have turned out bad, but it didn’t. We worked together in the end and we did what we always do… you know, be awesome. You’re right Dipper. Even though what you do is dangerous, I would have wanted to be there, by your side. You can’t do everything alone.”

               “I’m sorry, Mabel,” Dipper said again.

               Mabel was beginning to regain her composure, though her sniffles still punctuated the quiet tension that had settled between them. There was still so much Mabel had to say. There were things to share, stories to tell. Things that needed to be patched up. For the first time, Mabel realized the enormity of the task of rebuilding their relationship. From where she was sitting, it felt like an especially hopeless endeavor. Even if they did rebuild there was no guarantee that it would bring her any sense of closure or happiness. But today had been a first step towards mending things and Mabel wasn’t going to let that momentum go to waste.

               “Alright,” she said. “I’m going to help you.”

               Dipper blinked a few times. “What?”

               Mabel stood up and started closely examining the connections that Dipper had made between blurry photos and government documents. She took one of the strings between her finger and thumb and traced its path. “What are you looking for right now? You said you hunt paranormal things, you have to be doing something here.” She looked back at Dipper. “I’m going to help you look for it.”

               “What about your job?”

               She waved her hand in the air. “Please, they can manage fine without me. How hard is it to come up with those designs anyway? You could give a dog a packet of Smile Dip and they’d be able to do my job. Come on, what do you say? Mystery twins?”

               Dipper furrowed his brow for a moment, but then his expression softened. “Alright,” he said, a smile growing on his face. “Mystery twins.”

               “Yes!” Mabel said, punching the air. “Lay it on me, Dippin’ Sauce. What are we up against?”

               “Okay, Mabel. Have you ever heard of an omniscient extradimensional axolotl…”


End file.
